


There Comes You

by melizajoyt



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-24
Updated: 2013-10-24
Packaged: 2017-12-30 08:32:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1016415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melizajoyt/pseuds/melizajoyt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine Anderson has always worked backstage, but he's got a little black book full of secrets and one of them is that he's in love with the star of the show; Kurt Hummel. There's only one problem. Kurt is already engaged to a handsome lawyer-to-be. When Santana steps in to play matchmaker things go upside down. Kurt re-discovers himself and Blaine treads a fine line between just friends and something more. Also, Papa Bear Hummel always knows the right thing to say.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There Comes You

**Author's Note:**

> A HUGE thanks to my lovely beta chaseandcatch (livejournal) who did some fantastic work in a very short amount of time! <3 And I couldn't have been more fortunate than to have dorathebrit (livejournal) animateglee (tumblr) as my artist who made my story come to life before my eyes! Thank you so much! <3
> 
> More art for this fic can be found at http://dorathebrit.livejournal.com/848.html

Moving to center stage, Greg, clipboard in hand, scans his list once before nodding to himself. “Check the levels!” He calls, turning to face the back of the theater.

Blaine Anderson nods and swivels around in his chair toward the soundboard, reaches out to adjust a few levels to hopefully find a balance. “Try it now!” he calls back.

After a brief instruction from Greg, a young actress with long, black hair begins to talk into the microphone taped to her cheek, “Alright, Short Stuff, I know it’s impossible for me to sound bad,” she says, smirking, “but if you try to adjust my mic to make me sound anything less then my fantastic self, I will go Lima Heights Adjacent on your ass.”

Blaine’s lips quirk up as he makes a few quick adjustments to the girl’s microphone.

“You’re good to go, Santana,” Blaine calls from the back of the theater, giving a thumbs up.

“Oh, I know I’m good,” she sasses, eyebrow already raising defiantly as she sways her way back to where the other dancers are milling around, waiting to get their own microphones checked. Santana was certainly the most…outspoken actress Blaine had ever worked with, but from Blaine’s experience it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

Greg calls out the next name, going down the cast list starting with the leads.

“Kurt Hummel, you’re up.”

Just from hearing that name called, Blaine can feel his cheeks warm up, beginning to turn a soft, pink color. He keeps his head down, staring holes into the soundboard as he fiddles with different buttons aimlessly, listening for the sound of Kurt’s voice.

“Present!” Kurt sings into his mic as he moves to stand center stage where Greg is waiting.

As per Greg’s instructions, Kurt continues talking. 

“So, Blaine, do you come here often?” he drawls dramatically, knowing it will draw a smile from Blaine even if he can’t quite see it all the way at the back of the theater.  
Blaine reaches for a working microphone beside him and flips it on before speaking into it, so he doesn’t have to yell to Kurt. “I do. Your face looks kind of familiar, have I met you before?” 

Blaine tries his best not to be so self-conscious about the obvious difference between Kurt’s honed and lovely voice and Blaine’s slightly rough and scratchy voice from lack of use so far today; his line of work doesn’t require him to complete a warm up scale before his morning coffee.

“You might recognize me from the most recent show I starred in,” Kurt says casually. “It was kind of a big deal.” He shrugs, practically radiating nonchalance. Blaine knows Kurt is grinning on the inside, and it tugs a smile from his lips.

“Ahhh yes, weren’t you singing in that one? Dancing maybe?” Blaine jokes. “I think there might have been some speaking lines as well?”

Kurt manages to fake a cough and mutter, “All three,” before his grin breaks through and he sways on the balls of his feet, looking toward the vague shape of Blaine.

“It’s good to see you again, Blaine,” Kurt says sweetly before giving an extravagant bow and even pantomiming tipping his invisible hat to Blaine, lips stretching in a wide smile. The positive energy rolling off of Kurt in waves is infectious; it’s impossible for Blaine not to smile in return. 

Blaine loves Kurt like this, when he is far enough into the process of the show that he’s still extraordinarily excited about diving into a new character, but not so far that he gets frustrated by the long rehearsal hours or the directors constantly changing demands.

“Always a pleasure.” Blaine replies with a salute, grinning to himself at how wonderful Kurt always is and trying to convince himself that he is absolutely not blushing. 

“Your mic is set to go, Kurt.”

Kurt gracefully makes his way back to talk to the other actors as Greg continues to ask everyone to step forward one at a time to check their microphone. Blaine tries his best to focus, really, he does – he loves his job, but Kurt always holds a piece of his attention whenever he is in the room. No one knows it, but even as Blaine bends down to readjust some sound wires that had gotten tangled, he is craning his ears to hear the high, beautiful sound of Kurt’s laugh that always seems to reverberate through even the largest of rooms.

This isn’t the first show he’s worked on that Kurt has been cast in. Actually, this is the fourth show that Blaine and Kurt have worked on together. Well, not together, together. Blaine sticks to the sound aspects of the show and Kurt… well, Kurt is the star. 

It’s not uncommon for the same members of a technical crew to work on multiple shows all over the city that have similar actors in the cast, but it is still a big coincidence that it has happened four times in a row, or so Kurt believes. Kurt had even begun to joke that Blaine must be stalking him. Blaine has had keep reminding himself not to blush so obviously whenever one of those jokes pops up in their light conversations.

So maybe Blaine sometimes calls his previous employers and asks them to put a few good words about him to their theater friends; its not a bad thing.

And it isn’t stalking, Blaine tells himself.

It’s pursuing.

Harmlessly creating circumstances in which Blaine ends up working on the same show Kurt happens to be starring in. Besides, Blaine can count the number of interactions he’s had with Kurt on his hands. There’s something to be said for subtlety… extreme subtlety.

Not stalking.

Blaine can’t be blamed for the fact that even on the first show he worked on with Kurt, Kurt was extra friendly and kept asking the technical crew questions, getting to know them, including Blaine. 

Two years ago Kurt had been starring in his first show ever in a large venue. He’d asked lots of questions because, as he told Blaine, he didn’t want to be one of those actors that didn’t appreciate the tech or that came across as obnoxious. He was genuinely eager to meet new people and hear as many stories as he could. Man, how Kurt had changed in the two years since that first show.

The Kurt then had been more tentative, but just as eager to prove himself as he is now, if not more so.

“Hey kid, look alive,” Greg, Blaine’s kind-of boss, says as he nudges the younger mans shoulder.

“Yeah, sorry,” Blaine mumbles, blushing because if the smirk on Greg’s face is any indication, he definitely knows what Blaine’s thinking about. Greg and Blaine have worked together for years; one rarely ever works a show without the other.

Years ago, when Blaine was just a newbie in the theater world and fresh out of theater arts college, Greg had taken Blaine under his wing. The middle-aged man helped mentor him and taught him the ropes. Blaine has always thought of Greg as more of a father figure than a co-worker.

“Still hung up on him, I see.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Blaine replies, eyes on the mic levels, making sure nothing was falling out of place.

Greg opens their logbook and marks a few things, flipping through the pages. His glasses slip lower down his nose, making him look older than his thirty-eight years. 

“No, of course not. I’ve just been imagining the looks you’ve been giving that young man.” He scoffs. “Obviously.”

Blaine lets his head drop down, chin touching his chest as he fights down a smile. He looks sideways over at Greg and catches him glancing back.

“I haven’t gotten any better at hiding it, I suppose?” he asks weakly.

“A neon sign with blinking arrows would be more subtle than what you’re doing,” Greg answers bluntly.

Blaine’s head falls forward into his hands as he groans, embarrassed at his apparent inability to be reasonably subtle.

Greg sighs and grabs the back of a nearby rolling chair, pulling it over and straddling it, plopping down right in front of Blaine. “Come on, Blaine,” He asks, quietly. “When are you going to make a move?”

“You know I can’t do that,” Blaine mumbles into his hands.

With a swat of his hand Greg dismisses Blaine’s excuse. “Come on, if you’re so in love with him then there’s no way you’re making this all up in your head. He’s got to have some kind of feelings for you, maybe he just doesn’t realize it yet.”

“Tell that to the ring on his finger,” Blaine grumbles, face still buried in his hands.

“It’s not like anyone likes that fiancé of his,” Greg says, trying his best to sound cheerful.

“Everyone loves his fiancé. I love his fiancé,” Blaine mumbles, following it up with a heavy sigh. “Who wouldn’t? He’s a great guy.” Despite only meeting Kurt’s fiancé a handful of times and the fact that even fewer of those times were spent having a semblance of conversation with the guy, Blaine can’t deny that he likes Kurt’s fiancé. 

Cayden Williams is tall, like Kurt, though he’s built a bit thicker, more bulk-muscle than Kurt’s own refined and toned dancer body. He has blonde hair and a strong jawline that even Blaine has to admit has its appeal. From what Blaine had gathered from his encounters with Cayden, he’d been involved in theater in college, but is currently seeking out a law degree. Which means that he knows what Kurt is facing in his day-to-day life and can relate to his struggles in the theater world, but doesn’t have to be overbearing since he is also involved in his own life goals of becoming a lawyer. Blaine has no idea how Kurt managed to find one of the very rare attractive men in New York City that is actually a really wonderful guy, but he did. 

Blaine had tried for weeks to find some kind of flaw in the man, but the only thing he found was a charming, independent young man that treated Kurt exactly how Blaine knew he should be treated; like a treasure. He showed up to rehearsals to surprise Kurt, but made sure it was never on a day that Kurt couldn’t afford to be distracted. He came to every opening and closing night, dutifully waiting for him after the show in his dressing room with flowers and probably some other plans that Blaine didn’t want to even think about. For gods sake, the man never even forgot a birthday or anniversary, something that if anyone spent enough time within vicinity of Kurt would know was a very very big deal for the young actor.

“He can’t be that perfect,” Greg says, frowning.

“Trust me, he can.” With another great sigh, Blaine lifts his head from his hands, sits up and turns his attention back to the sound board, knowing the brief break the cast  
and technical crew were being allowed by the director wouldn’t last much longer.

“Chin up, things will get better. I’m sure of it,” the older mentor reassures with a pat to Blaine’s shoulder.

I wish, Blaine thinks wearily, settling in for another long rehearsal.

 

***

“Oh, she’s happy now-“

“Where’s mommy and daddy-“

“Okay, goodbye-“

“Do you know when-“

Blaine only lasts about a block before he has to reach for his ear buds, eagerly turning his iPod on and setting it to shuffle as he makes his way home after a late rehearsal one night.

He loves New York City, really he does, but sometimes he misses Ohio. A strange paradox, he knows, but if you take away the homophobic residents, add a few more theaters and decent shopping malls, maybe expand the city a tad, Blaine probably would be content to live in Ohio his whole life. He misses the wide, open spaces of land that you come across in Ohio, the quietness to the city where he grew up.

New York is all bustling, bright lights and people going every which way all at once. It’s fast paced if you let yourself get carried away, and Blaine has a tendency to get wrapped up in things before he can really think them through. It’s acting on instinct rather than a carefully constructed plan, whereas Ohio moves at a glacier’s pace. When the rest of the world is moving on ahead to the future, Ohio is lagging in the past. Unfortunately for Blaine, this means that it comes with some unappealing pre-dispositions. Which truly is a shame because he knows he can pull off the 50’s style better than almost anyone.

Still, he can’t help the small pang of longing in his chest as he glances at the tall buildings and the homeless guy that always sleeps around the corner from his apartment. 

Some things just always leave him wanting… more.

His apartment isn’t much, more of a hole-in-the-wall place than anything else, but it gets the job done and it isn’t too far from the theater so that helps. Sometimes the water runs cold for no reason at all and the furnace doesn’t always want to turn on, but he survives. It’s cheap and Blaine knows that someday his saving up will come in handy. His dream, the whole point to all this, is to live in a nice penthouse. Not even a really expensive one, just one with working water and heat and a good stove would be nice too. More than anything his dream revolves around having someone to share the penthouse with, a somebody that will fill the empty side of his queen sized bed and empty the extra cup of coffee from the coffee maker that Blaine makes every morning because he always thinks he’ll need two cups before the day starts, but never remembers to take the thermos with him before he leaves. He just wants somebody to share a life with. Is that so much to ask?

Blaine typically isn’t one for overreacting, but he can’t lie, it’s not like he’s getting any younger. He’s gone through four years of college and only had one boyfriend to show for it and even then Blaine had known that guy wasn’t ‘the one’. He’d known it all along, but he’d been lonely, desperate, not to mention a little bit horny. They didn’t last that long. He quickly discovered that having a relationship simply to just not feel so alone wasn’t the best of plans. 

Of course, there had been multiple crushes, all of them unattainable for one reason or another. One was set to move away to Europe, although Blaine definitely considered following that one. Another was closeted and Blaine made sure to stomp that crush into the ground as quickly as possible; that was not a road he was willing to go down. He might have been desperate, but he still had standards and some lines were not meant to be crossed. Ever. 

Then there was the artist that he was pretty sure was a drug addict; that had been a close call. The guy had asked him on a date, but looking back Blaine began to suspect that it had been an invitation to go met the guys dealer and he praises his lucky stars that he’d been busy that evening with a show. That man appealed to the purest parts of Blaine; the overwhelming need Blaine has to care for people that, in a city like New York, come back to bite him in the ass more times than naught. The list of crushes only gets worse and worse as you go on.

To say Blaine’s been a little bit concerned on the matter of his love life is a bit of an understatement. He looks in the mirror and sees a young man that’s not in any way particularly unattractive, that is passionate about his line of work and though he knows that not everyone in the world is attracted to short men there’s no possible way that its that much of a deal breaker for every gay guy in New York City. So why can’t he just find himself a decent guy?

Blaine makes his way up the steps of his apartment building to his door, humming along to the tune of ‘Bleeding Out’ as he does, lost in his own personal worries. The door swings open easily after he jiggles the key in and turns it. He makes his way into the tiny living space, dumping his bag on the chair in the living room before making his way to the kitchen in search of the left over take-out he’d stuck in the fridge the night before.

After a quick visit at the microwave Blaine, container in hand, walks to the living room, settling down on the couch. He pulls a tiny journal from the side pocket of his bag and the pencil off the coffee table before flipping to the most recent page that’d been written on. He scans his eyes over where he’d left off as he takes a sloppy bite from the box of chow mein. iPod still playing, Blaine twirls the pencil between his fingers before lowering it to the page and continuing to fill in the music lines, note by note…

 

***

“You look dead.” 

Lifting his head slowly, trying to avoid catching a glimpse of one of the stage lights, Blaine looks up into the face of the only person he is positive wouldn’t hesitate to punch someone who gave her the wrong look. 

“Hi, Santana,” he mumbles, sorely tempted to just duck his head back into his arms.

“Did someone stay out too late last night?” Santana asks, miming drinking with her hand, smirk evident on her lips.

“It’s not what you think,” Blaine says with a sigh. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Santana arches an eyebrow. “Totally.”

“I’m not kidding, I just couldn’t sleep.” Blaine absently runs his hands through his hair before freezing, moving his hands through his hair again quickly, eyes widening in panic. “My hair.”

“That’s what I’m saying, Hobbit; that sex hair mixed with the obvious walk of shame when you came in earlier, and the fact that you haven’t been able to look in direct light all day,” Santana says with a tsk. “Obviously not just a night of no sleep,” She adds gleefully.

“I forgot to do my hair,” Blaine mumbles in amazement. He tugs at one of the stray curls hanging over his forehead, pulls it until it’s a straight strand before letting it go, feeling it bounce back into place.

“I like the curls,” a familiar voice says from behind Blaine, making him turn around, eyes widening even more as he comes face-to-face with Kurt. “You should keep your hair like that more often.” 

Kurt’s eyes are sparkling slightly as they look at Blaine, a small smile curling the corners of his mouth up.

“I-I-” 

Blaine’s sleep-deprived mind short-circuits. Without another word Blaine quickly walks away, grabbing his bag as he leaves, hurrying to the men’s bathroom to start applying gel to his untamed curls.

“Is he okay?” Kurt asks Santana, concerned with Blaine’s response; he’d looked absolutely terrified.

Santana snorts delicately. “Of course not, he’s in love with a man who’s engaged and said man just told him he likes his natural hair. I’m pretty sure you just broke him,” she smirks, “he probably won’t be able to talk from now on.”

“Santana!” Kurt scolds. “He’s not in love with me. We’re just friends.”

“Right. Keep telling yourself that.” 

She sways gracefully in place before turning and walking away to start stretching for the dance portion of rehearsal for the day. She doesn’t see the way Kurt looks over at the men’s bathroom, confusion written all over his face.

Blaine spends the rest of rehearsal hiding his face from almost everyone, and rather than using what time he can to converse with the actors or technical crew like he usually does, he finds himself physically unable to leave his corner where the sound board sits due to sheer embarrassment. 

He’d choked earlier. It was like a cat literally had his tongue; not even a sound. Blaine keeps replaying that moment over and over again in his head, torturing himself into a state of permanently red cheeks. Not only is he embarrassed, but also somewhat ashamed. That was the complete opposite of how a gentleman should have behaved. 

God, what Kurt must think of him.

Blaine has been praying for time to move faster so he can just leave and go home to huddle under his comforter and pray that the world will just swallow him up whole. So when rehearsal finally ends, he’s only a couple feet from the doorway when he hears his name being called. “Blaine!”

Blaine freezes. 

“Kurt!” he says, plastering a smile on his face as he turns around, hoping the panic on the inside isn’t seeping through.

Kurt jogs his way over to Blaine, brow covered in a light sheen of sweat from the dance rehearsal. “Hey,” he says breathlessly when he stops a couple feet in front of Blaine. 

“Hi,” Blaine yelps, too high, cursing himself in his head. He’s talked to Kurt before, but after his stunt earlier it seems like all his confidence and manners have left the building.

“So a bunch of us are going to head out for drinks,” Kurt offers, “I was wondering if you wanted to come along.”

By some miracle, Blaine finds it in himself to reply coherently, because in all the shows he and Kurt have worked on, he’d never asked him out for drinks. Sure, there were the cast parties that Blaine usually went to, but nothing like a random get-together after a rehearsal. 

“Oh, um… I’d love to,” Blaine says with a quick, jerky nod.

Kurt’s face breaks out in a smile. “Awesome, okay, I’m just going to go change really quickly,” he says cheerfully, “The others should be coming out in a little bit so just hang around; we’re only going up the street.”

“Sounds good,” Blaine manages, nodding again with maybe a little bit too much enthusiasm.

And then Kurt is disappearing back into the dressing rooms to change and Blaine is left all alone in theater, waiting. He lets out a short breath, amazed that he is actually back to being able to talk to Kurt normally again. Nervously, he runs his hands over his hair, making sure there are no hairs out of place. He straightens his shirt a bit and frowns, a little bummed that he will be stuck in his usual dark jeans and t-shirt and absolutely no opportunity to show Kurt that he knows how to dress himself properly for a social outing. His hand brushes over the strap of his bag and he frowns when he realizes he can’t take that with him to the bar, unless he wants to lug it around all night. He contemplates heading to his apartment really quickly to drop it off and possibly change his clothes, but just as he is about to do it the door opens and a few of the actors trickle out from the dressing rooms, all dressed much more fashionably than himself.

Blaine, being the charismatic guy that he is, knows the actors fairly well and doesn’t have much fear in asking them if there is some place he can put his bag so he won’t have to carry it with him. They let him know that most of them keep their stuff back in the dressing room so that they can just drop by on their way back home to get their stuff. Blaine nods his thanks and makes his way back to the dressing rooms.  
He picks the first dressing room door he sees and feels his jaw drop when the door swings open to reveal Kurt just as he is buttoning up his shirt, but still with a large  
amount of chest in sight.

“Hey, Blaine, is everyone waiting on me? I’m almost finished,” he says as he finishes with his shirt and reaches for his boots, the ones that reach up nearly to Kurt’s knees. Blaine knows them quite well. 

“U-uh, no, I was just,” Blaine fumbles and lifts up his bag before setting it on a nearby table. “I needed a place to put my bag until we come back, they told me to head in here,” his voice trails off slightly at the end, really taking in how Kurt looked.

With men like Kurt walking around New York City, Blaine can see how someone like himself would definitely not be top on the list of potential boyfriends. Sure, Blaine can pull off the dapper, schoolboy look of innocence pretty well, but Kurt is in a league of his own; he oozes sex appeal, all the way from the soles of his McQueen shoes to the tips of his coiffed hair.

“Ready?” Kurt asks, donning his jacket and scarf as he makes his way past Blaine and out into the hallway.

Blaine scrambles after him quickly.

 

***

“So what exactly do you do?” Kurt asks as he leans across the tiny table they’d found at the bar towards Blaine.

“Kurt, you know what I do,” Blaine answers back with a smile, “You’ve known me for almost two years now.” He’s glad they aren’t at a bar that has intensely loud music blasting through the whole place. Half the bar is more of a small restaurant while the dance floor is near the back, providing enough space for actual conversation. 

Two drinks in and Blaine is feeling more confident about talking to Kurt, but he paces himself. After all, he is not about to get drunk and barf all over Kurt’s shoes. Kurt would probably kill him for something like that.

“Yeah, but…I don’t know anything about that fancy equipment that you use,” Kurt says, tilting his head to the side, waiting for a more detailed answer.

Blaine smiles into his drink as he takes a sip before laughing. “You really want to know about that stuff?”

“Absolutely!” Kurt nods earnestly.

“Alright, well it’s pretty simple,” Blaine says, still smiling, “You have your mic and I control how loud or quiet it is, but it gets tricky because there’s always interference from somewhere and sometimes you have to change channels at the last minute. Other than that, you know, I play tracks for special effects.” Blaine shrugs, “It’s not the most exciting thing in the world, but I think it’s fun.”

Kurt seems to know that Blaine is giving him the shortened description of his job. “So, how did you get into this line of work?” Kurt questions.

“Well, I went to college for the arts and I’ve done some acting and things like that, but I decided to stick with the behind the scenes stuff,” Blaine says with another shrug. 

“It just felt… right.”

“What about you and acting, how did that happen?” Blaine asks, curious.

“Oh, I’ve always wanted to be working in live theater, ever since my mom told me that something like Broadway existed.” Kurt grins as he speaks, obviously happy thinking of how far he’s come, “I nearly switched to fashion at one point though, high school was hard on me and the kids were cruel, but I didn’t give up and I’m really glad I didn’t.”

“I am too,” Blaine says without thinking.

Kurt smiles and looks slyly at Blaine, his eyes asking without him having to say a thing.

“I-I just meant because, you know,” Blaine stutters, “then I wouldn’t have had the chance to meet you and see you on stage.”

“That’s sweet of you,” Kurt replies, eyes glinting. “I have to say I’m glad I met you too, you’re a good friend.”

Blaine smiles and takes another, bigger sip from his drink as he tries to ignore the painful twang in his chest. It’s a strange feeling; being happy that he’s Kurt’s friend, but sad about it at the same time.

“Kurt!” a voice calls from behind Blaine. They both look up, and Kurt grins widely as Blaine’s heart sinks.

“Hi, honey,” Kurt says as he stands and kisses his fiancé.

Blaine plasters on a fake smile, shaking Cayden’s hand and not even batting an eye as he sits down beside Kurt, arm wrapping around his waist.

He lasts about five minutes before he excuses himself to go get another drink.

Just after Blaine orders another drink Santana appears next to him.

“How’re you holding up, Midget?” she asks. She orders a couple of shots.

“What are you talking about?” Blaine asks, trying to sound oblivious.

“Cut the crap. Mr. Perfect Hair’s perfect life is driving you crazy and you want to rip that laywer-to-be’s face off,” she says.

Blaine’s nose wrinkles up. “No, I don’t.”

With an annoyed sigh Santana pushes one of the shots over towards Blaine.

“I’m not doing shots with you,” Blaine says.

“You’re right, you’re not,” Santana says, placing the second shot beside the first, “You are doing shots while I watch.”

Blaine shakes his head.

“Listen, Blainers,” Santana says, moving to grip Blaine’s shoulders and spin him around, pointing towards where Kurt and Cayden are sitting. “You know how you’re in love with, Kurt? Well there is absolutely no chance of you two getting together-“

“-Is this supposed to make me feel better?” Blaine interrupts with a frown.

“If,” Santana emphasizes, louder, noticeably annoyed by the interruption, “he’s still got that fiancé on his arm.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“You are not doing anyone any favors by sitting around looking like a kicked puppy while Kurt floats around in a lovely bubble of engaged happiness.”

“Are you trying to rub it in?” Blaine’s frown deepens and he tries to get away from Santana’s grasp.

“Will you just listen?” Santana snaps, turning him towards her. “Show him what he’s missing, idiot. He’s not going to give up that fiancé unless he sees something better. Stop acting like you’ve already lost the fight. Buck up and be a man! Go after him!” 

“Santana, what-” Blaine’s cut off as Santana turns him back to the bar where the two shots are waiting.

“Take the shots,” she encourages, “Don’t worry about getting home. I’ll take care of it. I’ll be over to your place first thing in the morning. Do it!”

Blaine never had a chance of standing up to Santana, but he thought it through anyway before deciding a little help to just calm down couldn’t hurt. The next thing he knows he’s downing the shots and taking his other drink with him as Santana leads him back over to where Kurt and Cayden are, her hand firm on his elbow.

***

 

Blaine wakes up with a gasp, sputtering as freezing cold water splashes over his face. The cold seeps into his bones, leaving him a shivering, hungover mess. 

“Good morning, Sunshine!” Santana says with a too-sweet smile.

“What the hell, Santana!” he yells, sitting up and wiping the water from his eyes.

“Wake up, we have to be at rehearsal in twenty minutes,” she says, “and you better not make me late.” Without another word she turns on her heel and makes her way out of Blaine’s room, leaving him soaking wet and freezing cold.

It only takes a couple seconds for Blaine to realize how badly his head is pounding, groaning before his stomach lurches and quickly racing to the bathroom, holding his hand over his mouth.

After a quick shower, a second stop at the toilet, a long visit with his toothbrush, three glasses of water and two Advil later Blaine meets Santana in his tiny kitchen, squinting at the light and glaring at her.

“Oh, stop that. You look pitiful,” Santana says before handing him a cup of coffee. “Don’t expect me to do this every day; unlike you, I have a social life.”  
Blaine decides it best not to answer because if he does he might just end up choking Santana. “Care to tell me why you so graciously decided to greet me this morning?” Blaine asks teeth clenching together in annoyance. “How did you even get in?” 

Santana sets her coffee cup in the sink before moving out of the kitchen and heading towards the front door.

“Where are you going?” he yells after her, frowning, confused.

“Rehearsal!” She calls back.

Blaine fumbles for a second before grabbing his thermos for the first time and pouring the coffee into it. He screws the cap on and grabs his bag on his way out the door, hurrying to catch up to Santana.

“What the hell is going on, how did you get in my house?” he asks again as he catches up to her.

Santana sets a brisk speed walk to the theater and doesn’t say a word to Blaine the whole time, making his frustration grow. It isn’t until they are about to reach the door to the theater that Blaine finally has had enough. He reaches out and grabs her by the forearm, twirling her around to face him.

“Answer me, Santana.” he asks firmly. “What were you doing in my apartment?” 

Santana glances down at where Blaine is gripping her arm and for once he doesn’t back down and let go of her arm and apologize like he would normally. Santana isn’t like other girls and he is getting fed up with her games. She grins and leans in closer to Blaine, like she’s about to tell him a secret.

“I think a better question,” she says slowly, “is what do you remember from last night?”

Leaving Blaine standing on the sidewalk in shock, Santana tugs her arm free and disappears inside the theater.

There’s a sinking feeling in Blaine’s gut. He can’t remember anything after the second shot Santana had given him.

Rehearsal is absolute hell that day. Santana avoids him and won’t tell him anything and every time Blaine looks at Kurt he seems to be giggling at him. It’s driving him mad.

Blaine tries to corner Santana around their lunch break, but instead Kurt takes that opportunity to approach him.

“Hey, Blaine,” Kurt says with a smile, lips curling up in such a way that Blaine can’t help feeling like Kurt knows he doesn’t know what happened the night before.

Blaine scratches the back of his neck and gives Kurt a smile, “Hey, Kurt. How’s it going?”

“It’s pretty good, I’m surprised you haven’t been singing along to the songs this morning,” Kurt says with a small laugh, eyes sparkling mischievously.

“Ah, yeah me too—wait, what?” Blaine says as he actually registers Kurt’s words. 

Kurt laughs and it’s then that he gets tugged away by one of the other actors to go eat lunch.

“No, I’m not kidding. Kurt, I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Blaine calls after him, but Kurt just laughs some more before he disappearing through the door backstage. “Santana!” he yells.

“Calm your tits, I’m right here, Shorty,” Santana says from behind Blaine.

Blaine whirls around. “What was Kurt talking about? Why was he laughing? And why were you in my apartment this morning?”

“Come on, I’ll take you to lunch,” she says calmly, leading Blaine out of the theater and into the busy city streets.

“Santana, please, tell me what happened,” he tries to reason with her, surely there is some kind of sympathy in her somewhere, “You owe me that much.”

“I told you to calm down. I’ll tell you what you did.” She is clearly enjoying having so much power over Blaine.

Unfortunately for Blaine, that means waiting until Santana had ordered and then received her taco salad.

“Will you tell me now?”

“Whinyness is a very unattractive quality,” she says instead.

“Santana.”

“Karaoke.”

“What about it?” Blaine frowns, tiring of the young actress’s games.

“This is going to be a lot harder than I thought if you can’t keep up.” Santana continues, “Karaoke. You did karaoke.”

Blaine pales and leans in closer. “Are you serious?” he whispers.

“Because I would drag this out all day just to lie to you,” Santana says.

Blaine glares at Santana.

“Honestly, you sang karaoke, that’s what happened.”

“What did I sing?”

When Santana smirks Blaine immediately groans and lets his head fall to the table with a thump before groaning and rubbing his forehead, the headache he still had from earlier didn’t help anything.

“Well it started with Katy Perry and it ended with Back Street Boys. Do you need to know what happened in the middle?” Santana asks with a grin, taking a bite of her food.

Blaine groans and makes himself eat some fries, hoping the greasy food he ordered will help settle his stomach.

“How bad was it?” he asks a moment later.

“Your impersonations would’ve been spot on if you weren’t almost falling off the stage every other verse.”

“Why didn’t anyone stop me?” he asks, horrified that his friends and co-workers would just let him do something like that.

“Oh, you specifically told us all not to take your mic away like Kanye did to Taylor,” she says, “And you hogged the mic for as long as you could, it was quite the show. Kurt loved it.”

Blaine moans and looks at Santana helplessly. “What must he think of me now? God, I ruined it.”

Santana laughs at him, and just as Blaine is about to tell Santana off for being so rude she speaks again. “You didn’t ruin anything. My plan worked,” She says, smirking. 

“Guess what, Blainers? Last night, Kurt noticed you for the first time in two years. I put you on his radar, so you’re welcome.”

“Wait, what?”

Santana sets her fork down and leans over the table towards Blaine. “Before last night all you’d ever been to Kurt was that random co-worker. Now, he’ll always remember you as that awesome co-worker that knows how to belt out a number when he’s hammered.”

“And that’s a step up?” Blaine asks.

“Trust me,” she says. “I’m gonna help you get Hummel, but I need less resistance here.”

“Why would you do that? I thought you were friends with Kurt.”

Santana was turning out to be far more complex than Blaine had ever imagined.

“I am.” Blaine raises an eyebrow, and Santana continues. “Which is why I know that Mr. Lawyer is not right for him. They’ll never work out. He’s just too afraid to go after someone that could make him really happy; you’ve been in love with him for practically a decade and as far as I know, you haven’t even tried to get yourself a distraction so obviously you aren’t giving up on this.”

“Wow Santana,” Blaine says, surprise laced in his tone. “That’s actually really nice.”

“I’m not a heartless bitch all the time, thank you very much,” she snaps.

“I didn’t mean – Just – thank you, Santana. I think you’re actually a really nice friend,” Blaine says gently, not used to calling people his friend.

“Yeah, well I’m tired of watching you pining after him all the time,” She says, flipping her hair over her shoulder and grabbing her fork again, but not before she glances over at Blaine and gives him a tiny smile that softens her words. “This is mostly so that I don’t have to watch you look like a kicked puppy.”

Blaine can’t be sure, but he has a feeling that Santana is going to become one of his best friends.

***

 

Two more weeks pass in a similar fashion. 

Kurt invites Blaine to go out with him and rest of the cast for dinner, drinks and sometimes just a walk around the city and Santana inevitably finds ways (most of the time involving alcohol in some form) to get him to loosen up and be more forward than he usually would be. He doesn’t exactly hit on Kurt, but he is certainly more comfortable talking to him. 

He learns more about Kurt in those two weeks than he ever had in the two years that they’d worked together.

Blaine finds himself opening up to Kurt, about more than just the superficial things that you say when making conversation. He tells Kurt about the time he broke his arm when he was six; how he almost never sees his aunt because she’s always traveling and seeing the world, but she’s one of Blaine’s absolute favorite human beings in the entire world. He even tells Kurt about the bullying in middle school, and how it got better when he transferred to a private school for his freshman year of high school.

They bond over their respective stories and Blaine starts to see Kurt in a whole new light. It isn’t just about wanting to with him any more. It’s about being there for him because he wants Blaine to be there. They’re friends by the end of those two weeks.

Blaine’s never had a best friend. Not really. But he thinks Kurt is his.

So when Santana keeps trying to get him to make a move, Blaine puts his foot down. Santana fumes and rants, but Blaine explains himself, and she calms down.

“You really love him,” she says one evening, realization finally setting in.

“Yeah, I do,” Blaine swallows around the lump in his throat and nods, “And even if I’m just a friend to him for the rest of our lives, I’d rather be that than someone who tried to make a move on him and lost him forever. At least this way I can see him.”

Santana doesn’t bother Blaine about it again and Blaine has never felt so thankful in his life. He also doesn’t think he’s ever had so many close friends in his life.

Blaine thinks that’s kind of awesome.

***

 

Days pass and Blaine spends his free time hanging out with Kurt and Santana. They chat and joke with each other like they’ve been doing it for years; Santana even comes over to his apartment a few times a week to eat dinner with him. It helps that they have mostly the same schedule. 

Kurt joins them occasionally although sometimes he has to go home to meet up with Cayden. 

Cayden doesn’t come up in conversation between him and Blaine a lot. Blaine never brings him up, and Kurt never offers up more than the occasional update on how the wedding plans are going. Somehow, Blaine thinks Kurt knows that Blaine doesn’t want to know about the wedding plans, and he doesn’t want to question it, so they leave it alone.

Blaine knows that Cayden knows about him, though – obviously, they’ve met each other, but aside from that Blaine knows that Cayden knows Kurt hangs out with Blaine a lot more in recent days. 

Blaine can’t quite get rid of the butterflies fluttering in his stomach when Kurt talks to Cayden on the phone and says ‘I’m with Blaine.’ 

So maybe his relationship with Kurt isn’t the healthiest for him, but like he said, he’d rather deal with unrequited love than having Kurt hate him.

He ends up putting all his hidden feelings into the little black book he hauls around with him everywhere. Slowly and surely, the pages fill up with phrases and lines and many more notes. Kurt even asks about the book one day, while they’re having coffee before rehearsal.

“What’s that?” he says, placing his coffee on the table, sitting down across from Blaine.

Blaine fumbles around for a moment, almost dropping his pencil as he hurries to close the little book. He hadn’t seen Kurt walking towards their table and had been trying to squeeze in a phrase that had been running through his head all morning.

“N-nothing!” he says quickly.

Kurt tilts his head to the side skeptically; he knows Blaine can’t resist that face.

He sighs and relaxes a little. “It’s just a- a song book.”

“Song book?” Kurt asks, eyes lighting up in interest. “You write songs?”

“Sometimes.” Blaine says hesitantly.

“Are they any good?” he teases, eyes bright and teasing.

God, Blaine’s so in love that it hurts.

He rolls his eyes and reaches out to shove Kurt’s shoulder a little. “How sensitive of you.”

They bicker back and forth on the topic light-heartedly all the way back to the theater.

“Come on, Blaine, let me hear one? I know you have a good voice,” Kurt pleads as they walk inside the heated theater.

Blaine’s mind flashes to the stanzas of lyrics all dedicated to describing Kurt’s eyes, and he flushes and shakes his head. “Maybe some other time,” he offers, hoping Kurt will drop it.

Luckily, he does, but not completely. “I’ll get you to sing me some Blaine Anderson originals one day!” 

The corner of Blaine’s mouth lifts up in a small smile as he watches Kurt bounce away to the stage. 

“Yeah, maybe,” he says, softly, once Kurt’s out of hearing distance.

Oh, he’s so screwed.

***

 

Blaine got so swept up in everything, work and his new friendships, that when it all comes crashing down a few days later he doesn’t really know how to react.

When he walks into the theater, shaking off the biting cold New York air (fall was definitely creeping up on them), he knows immediately that something is wrong. Everyone, including the tech is gathered on the stage to listen to an announcement from the director. Blaine makes his way over to Santana and pokes her.

“What’s going on?” he whispers.

“I don’t know, but where’s Kurt? He should be here by now,” She says as she looks around.

Blaine doesn’t know how he knows, but suddenly he’s positive that whatever announcement that is about to be made is about Kurt and it’s not going to be good.

Sure enough, when the director steps up and gets everyone’s attention there’s a grim look on her face.

“I’m sorry to announce that Kurt won’t be working on the show for the foreseeable future and, Jared, his understudy will be picking up in his place starting immediately until further notice.” 

There’s an uproar of protest.

The director has to whistle to get everyone quiet again. “All I know is that Kurt had a family emergency and he flew home to be with his family. We should respect Kurt’s privacy and give him the space he needs. I suggest all of us adjust to this as quickly as possible and continue with rehearsals as normally as we can. I’ll keep you all updated if I have any more news for you.”

Blaine’s brow furrows as he listens to the new piece of information. A small part of him is glad that Kurt isn’t physically hurt or anything, but the rest of him is still worried sick for Kurt. He hopes he’s okay.

Kurt’s told him about his family, although most of it revolves around his father and Blaine has a sickening feeling in his stomach as he considers the possibility that there might be something wrong with Kurt’s dad. 

He tries calling Kurt the first chance he gets. 

He can’t decide if it’s good or bad when Kurt doesn’t pick up.

***

 

A week passes.

It’s a full week in which Blaine doesn’t hear back from Kurt, despite calling, texting and leaving an endless amount of voicemails for him.

Blaine thinks it’s the worst week of his life.

Santana even starts to go a little mad, getting upset with Blaine because apparently his nervous, anxious energy keeps rubbing off on her and throwing her off during rehearsals.

Blaine reels it back in a little and sucks it up; obviously his freaking out wasn’t doing anyone any good.

Kurt sends him a text on Monday night as he’s walking home from rehearsal, feeling more annoyed with his job than he usually is. No offense to Jared (Kurt’s understudy), the man has a lovely voice, but has absolutely no respect for his mic. Blaine’s pretty sure he’ll go mad is he has to explain to Jared that he can’t just toss his mic on the ground at the end of rehearsal, that the equipment he uses actually costs money. 

The text is short.

 

From Kurt Hummel:  
back in NY. sorry I didn’t text you. dinner at your place?

 

Blaine tries to calm his heart so it doesn’t beat right out of his chest. He hurriedly texts back having to read it three times before being sure he was spelling Thai correctly.

 

To Kurt Hummel:  
of course. Thai okay?

 

He gets an affirmative response and rushes home, knowing it only takes Kurt about twenty minutes by cab to get to his apartment. He orders their food quickly, getting their usual order before working to tidy up his small living area.

There’s a knock at his door fifteen minutes later.

He pulls the door open quickly, breath rushing out of him as he catches sight of Kurt standing on his doorstep, hair coiffed to perfection as usual and a scarf tied around his slender neck.

He takes Blaine’s breath away.

“Hi,” Kurt says, rocking on his heels, waiting to be let in.

“Hi.” Blaine moves quickly, realizing how rude it was to make a guest stand outside.

Kurt walks into a room like he owns it and it always makes Blaine jealous. It’s that kind of confidence that makes him a great actor. Suddenly his small apartment doesn’t feel so much like his space but their place. 

Blaine wants to ask, but he knows better than to broach the subject like that. “Food should be here in about 15 minutes,” he says instead.

Kurt nods and shrugs out of his fall coat before folding it neatly over the arm of the couch. He settles himself in the middle of Blaine’s couch, crossing his leg over the other and slipping the scarf around his neck off, placing it in his lap.

“I really am sorry I didn’t call you back,” Kurt starts quietly.

Blaine’s shaking his head before Kurt’s even finished the sentence. He moves over to sit beside Kurt, body angled towards him. “You don’t have to be sorry. I’m sure whatever happened, it was more important,” he says earnestly.

“My step-brother, Finn, I’ve told you about him?” Kurt asks and waits for Blaine to nod in confirmation.

“He’s in the army,” Blaine says softly, stomach dropping down to the floor at what he’s afraid he’s going to hear.

Kurt nods and takes a deep breath. “He’s injured. They were doing a routine check of some sort and there was an ambush. Only three people made it out alive. Finn- he was shot in his leg and arm. He had to have surgery. He’ll be okay, but therapy is going to be a long ordeal and my dad had to take up extra shifts at the garage because of the medical bills. I helped out as much as I could, but my dad wouldn’t let me do anything more than a couple grand.”

Blaine watches Kurt’s face carefully, knowing he when he’s barely holding himself together.

“I could’ve lost him,” Kurt says softly, eyes trained on Blaine’s small coffee table. “I- I know I always talk about the stupid things he does and how much he used to bug me in high school, but he’s my brother and I l-love him,” he chokes a little at the end, eyes watering up.

Blaine doesn’t hesitate to open his arms to Kurt, wrapping him up tightly. Kurt’s hair smells like vanilla and strawberries and Blaine only holds him tighter.

“But he’s going to be okay now, Kurt. He’ll be okay,” Blaine reassures because Kurt still kind of looks like he’s frayed and a little bit broken.

“I know,” Kurt takes a deep breath and lets it out. “It’s just scary.” His voice sounds so small that it breaks Blaine’s heart a little. Without thinking he kisses the top of Kurt’s head, rubbing his back comfortably – if Kurt notices, he doesn’t react to it.

They stay like that, Blaine’s arms wrapped around Kurt comfortingly until there’s a knock on the door signaling the arrival of their dinner.

Kurt wipes at his eyes and gets himself together again as Blaine sets out the food on the coffee table. They eat in near silence until Kurt asks Blaine about rehearsal and how his understudy has been.

Somewhere in-between filling Kurt in on what he missed and the take out boxes of Thai food, Blaine ends up pressed to Kurt’s side, shoulders and thighs touching. He makes Kurt laugh and smile, knowing he needs it and reveling in the fact that he can do that for Kurt. 

When Kurt leaves that night, Blaine walks him out and gets him a cab.

The next morning at rehearsal, Kurt arrives and heads to the dressing room and walks up to his dressing mirror and stops. A bouquet of red and yellow roses had been placed on top of his make-up table. He finds a card taped to the vase that says ‘welcome home :) -Blaine’ 

Kurt grins and leans forward to smell the beautiful flowers delicately. 

Blaine can’t be sure, but he thinks that Kurt can’t stop smiling the whole day of rehearsal, an extra bounce in his step and he hopes. 

He hopes.

***

 

Days pass, and opening day gets closer and closer. Kurt had slipped back into his role seamlessly, as if he’d never left. The production was moving forward on schedule and everyone was happy. Well, mostly.

It’s not that there’s anything wrong per se, but Blaine can’t help but notice the difference in the way Kurt acts.

Usually, during a typical week, Blaine and Kurt will go out after rehearsals a few times. Mostly Kurt would head home after rehearsal to spend time with Cayden. Kurt doesn’t talk about Cayden much when he’s with Blaine. At first, Blaine thought Kurt was just being subconsciously or maybe consciously (although that thought kind of makes Blaine sick to his stomach because what if Kurt knows) considerate to Blaine’s apparent feelings, but as time has gone on he’s started to think that maybe something else is going on.

“Are you and Cayden fighting or something?” he asks one night as they’re walking to the nearest Italian restaurant. 

Kurt frowns and glances at Blaine, “Um, no? Why would you ask?”

“Oh, well – um, it’s probably none of my business, but…you never really talk about him,” Blaine says awkwardly, almost wishing he’d never decided to bring it up.

“Well he doesn’t really come up much,” Kurt says with a shrug. “Is there something you wanted to know about him?”

“Ah, no, I guess not.” Now Blaine definitely regrets it.

Kurt smiles and nudges Blaine’s shoulder with his own. “Alright.”

And just like that, they don’t talk about it again, and Blaine decides that he was just being weird; of course there’s nothing wrong with Kurt’s relationship with his fiancé. 

Except after another week, Blaine definitely thinks there’s definitely something wrong.

Maybe ‘wrong’ isn’t the right word.

Blaine should be euphoric at this moment in time. He thinks he should, at least.

Kurt’s spent the entire week with him, almost all his spare time is consumed by doing things with Kurt; walking around the block, going out to eat, watching corny romantic comedies on Blaine’s crappy TV. If it weren’t for the shiny ring on Kurt’s left hand, he’d think that they were dating.

He tells himself it can’t be all in his head.

Just yesterday when Blaine walked Kurt out to get him a cab after another one of their weekly dinners (Blaine had cooked up some stir fry) and hugged him goodbye, he could swear Kurt held onto him a little longer and tighter than was socially acceptable for just friends.

Not to mention that Blaine never goes to Kurt’s home. Every time Blaine asks if they can go to Kurt’s instead, he makes up some excuse like Cayden’s probably studying and wants to be left alone.

Blaine knows that law school can be pretty time consuming and studying is important, but from the sounds of it, Cayden doesn’t even sleep. 

Those are just a couple things that set off Blaine’s alarm bells, and it’s kind of driving him crazy.

Sometimes, Kurt smiles at him, and it’s nearly always when he doesn’t think Blaine can see him, and sure Kurt smiles at him other times too, but these smiles – they’re different. It’s like he’s looking at Blaine and smiling in a way that says he isn’t just happy to be seeing a friend. It’s a smile that Blaine knows well because his lips have curled up in the same way when he stares at Kurt and thinks about how cute his dimples are and how his eyes sparkle when the stage lights hit them just right – Kurt smiles at Blaine the way people do when they’re in love.

And this would all be great news to Blaine, except it doesn’t mean anything if Kurt’s still got that ring on his finger.

Blaine’s afraid that Kurt doesn’t even know he’s doing it. He makes Blaine’s heart skip a beat whenever he walks into the same room as him and when he catches Kurt smiling at him like that it kind of makes it hard to breathe, because he’s in love with Kurt – it’s not crush-love, or lust-love, this is I-will-jump-into-a-blender-to-make-you-happy love.

But Kurt’s not his. Kurt has a fiancé. He’s not supposed to smile at Blaine like he’s in love with him.

Blaine can feel his heart breaking.

***

 

Kurt didn’t expect Cayden at home that evening. Rehearsal had been grueling that day and instead of heading to Blaine’s like he would normally, he decided that a quiet night alone sounded like the best remedy for his aching limbs and slightly sore throat.

When he opened the door and caught sight of Cayden’s shoes and bag by the door, he was surprised, and confused; usually Cayden was out much later – until he was kicked out of the library, at least. 

“Cayden?” Kurt calls out, making his way to the dining room where a lamp is glowing, illuminating the walls and casting eerie shadows.

He certainly didn’t expect to find Cayden passed out against the dining room table, a suspiciously empty bottle of wine hanging loosely in his grip, his arm hanging over the edge of the table and his cheek pressed to one of the placemats as he snores.

Kurt frowns and moves forward, “Cayden?” he says again, prodding him in the side carefully.

“Let’s get you to bed,” Kurt suggests when Cayden jerks awake and almost falls out of the chair. He tugs the bottle from Cayden’s weak grip and sets it aside delicately.

Kurt helps him up and wraps his arm around his waist as he nearly drags him back to their bedroom.

“What’s gotten into you?” Kurt asks quietly, hauling his fiancé down the hallway, “You never drink this much.”

Cayden seems to become more aware of what’s going on once they reach the threshold to their room. “W-u-we need to talk,” Cayden slurs out, standing up a little straighter to point at Kurt’s face.

“You need to sleep,” Kurt corrects, tilting his head away so he doesn’t get another nose full of the stench of alcohol that’s practically oozing from Cayden’s pores.

Kurt heaves his fiancé up onto their bed and starts to make him as comfortable as he can, taking his socks off and getting him out his shirt.

Kurt finishes tucking him in, is halfway to the door when he hears it, mumbled quietly.

“You don’t love me anymore.” 

Kurt turns around, hurt-confused-tired, but Cayden’s already passed out again, snoring lightly. Kurt’s hands freeze and he stares down at Cayden, heart beating loudly in his chest. 

He doesn’t sleep that night.

As much as he wants to run away, he doesn’t. He stays, and when Cayden wakes up the next morning hungover – yet still determined – they talk.

Talking puts it lightly. There’s some yelling. And a lot of crying.

Kurt wouldn’t have gone to rehearsal that afternoon if it hadn’t been the week before their opening and the director would have literally skinned him alive if he didn’t go.

That’s not to say it would be an easy day.

He doesn’t answer Blaine’s text about coffee and arrives at rehearsal just in time to not be considered late, but it does the trick. He jumps right into rehearsal, tries his best to block out his emotions and avoids speaking to anyone that isn’t the director or his cast-mates. Kurt can practically feel Blaine’s eyes on him from the back of the theater, but he doesn’t dare glance up at him. He’s got bags under his eyes and he knows his face is probably blotchy with patches of red everywhere and he looks terrible. Everyone notices, and Kurt ignores them as best he can.

He can’t, however, ignore his director.

Halfway through rehearsal the director calls him over and sits him down, giving everyone else things to work on and exercises to do to keep them warmed up.

“What’s wrong?” She asks bluntly.

Shelby Corcoran is a well renowned director in the theater world, dedicated to producing wonderful shows that always impressed their audiences and critics. Kurt has always respected her and her tough rehearsals. She pushed her cast in every element and Kurt couldn’t have asked for a better director to work with.

“Nothing, just…personal stuff,” Kurt says and sighs when Shelby raises an eyebrow. “I’ll be better tomorrow, I promise and I’ll be ready to go by opening.”

Her lips thin into a straight line and she studies Kurt carefully before deciding. “Alright, but if you haven’t pulled yourself together within the next two days then I’m going to have Jared start shadowing you.”

Kurt swallows and nods; he knows Shelby means business and he doesn’t want to let her or his cast-mates down.

“Take five, everybody!” she yells to the theater.

He can spot Blaine making his way towards him and quickly escapes to the dressing room bathroom, knowing Blaine won’t follow him there.

Five minutes later he’s back on the stage and determined to get through rehearsal with a minimal amount of mistakes. He tries not to notice the hurt look he can feel Blaine sending him and the things it does to the beat of his heart.

Shelby cuts the rehearsal short that day seeing as it doesn’t look like they were going to get in a lot of great work anyway. She sends a look Kurt’s way that reminds him of their earlier conversation.

Kurt practically runs out of rehearsal, knowing Blaine would be hot on his tail. He hears a yelled ‘Kurt!’ as he slips into a cab, but he doesn’t look back as he drives away.

The rest of the week continues in a similar manner. Kurt arrives at rehearsal just in the nick of time and doesn’t speak to anyone about anything unrelated to the show. His performance reverts back to his normal standard, but there’s the spark of real passion and happiness that is missing. He couldn’t keep living in the same place with Cayden; it was ruining his concentration for the show (and Cayden’s for his studying that he desperately needed to be focused on) so he made arrangements to stay with Santana.

He mopes when he’s not in rehearsal, and he knows he’s moping, but he honestly can’t bring himself to care.

Cayden and him are on the rocks; he’d told Kurt that he was putting everything on pause for the time being until Kurt figured out what he wanted. He’d taken to twisting the ring around his finger until the skin turned cherry red.

The weekend before the show is going to open, Santana snaps.

She slaps her hand down on the kitchen counter, making Kurt jump out of his wallowing thoughts.

“Alright, you need to stop,” She says, glaring at Kurt. “Just stop.”

“Stop what?” he asks. 

Santana gestures at him, arms spreading wide and then falling to her sides. “This!” she yells, exasperated.

He frowns, just a little bit offended. 

“You’ve eaten all of my ice cream and when you’re not shoveling comfort food in your mouth you’re sitting on my couch looking like the world is ending and bemoaning that your life isn’t fair!” She says and she’s back glaring at him.

A moment passes before she continues.

“Which is why,” she says, straightening and seemingly getting a hold of herself, “I’ve invited Blaine over tonight.”

“You what?!” Kurt screeches, eyebrows shooting up his forehead like a rocket.

“He’s coming over here because whatever is going on with you has something to do with him too,” she argues, “You’ve been avoiding him every day.”

“Santana,” he growls, dangerously close to running his hands through his hair. He jumps down from the stool and stomps into the living room.

“You can’t keep avoiding your issues, I’m trying to help you!” 

“Cayden broke off the engagement,” Kurt says quickly, rubbing slender fingers against his temples to try and prevent the oncoming migraine.

“Wait- what?” Whatever Santana had been about to say fades as her mouth drops open.

Kurt walks over to the couch, slumping down onto it. “I came home the other night and he was so drunk he actually passed out at our kitchen table. When he woke up in the morning he told me that until I decided what I wanted the engagement is off. Our-“ Kurt pauses as his eyes water, “our whole relationship is on pause.” 

For once, Santana seems to be at a loss for what to say, but she recovers quickly. “Well, that means this does have something to do with Blaine, right? So you should talk to him. Figure out what you do want so you can actually let Cayden know.”

“Santana…” Kurt trails off and it’s then that the doorbell rings.

“You need to talk to him,” She says again before letting Blaine in and directing him to the living room before slinking off down the hallway.

***

 

“Kurt?” Blaine asks as he walks in, eyes widening when he catches sight of him.

Kurt looks like a wreck; his eyes are red-rimmed, like he’s spent too much spare time crying and his clothes are skewed in ways that Blaine knows are from tugging on hems and fiddling with the loose fabric.

“Kurt?” he says again.

He looks like he’s about to start crying again when he meets Blaine’s gaze.

Blaine takes a few steps into the room and stops.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen with Finn?” Blaine asks worriedly. “Your dad?”

Kurt shakes his head, lets out a tiny, watery laugh because through all of this, Blaine’s worried about Kurt’s family and just fuck, how’d someone so wonderful just fall into his life? “No, my family is fine, Blaine.”

Blaine relaxes at the news just slightly, before tensing right back up. “What’s wrong, then?”

The young actor manages to collect himself enough to pat the space next to him in invitation, and Blaine sits, and Kurt takes a deep breath.  
“Cayden and I…have decided to put a – a pause on our relationship.”

It’s not fair that Blaine looks so honestly concerned and upset about Kurt’s relationship problems when he knows that Santana was right all those weeks ago; Blaine has liked him, probably for months, maybe even years and suddenly it all comes crashing down on Kurt like a thunderstorm. 

He hasn’t been fair to anyone.

And he’s been leading Blaine on, someone who he knows is so wonderfully in love with Kurt that he’d let himself be hurt by him; even now, sitting in front of Blaine with tears gathering in his own eyes, he knows he’s not being fair.

Blaine shouldn’t love someone like him.

And Cayden.

The man he thought he wanted to spend the rest of his life with-

“B-Blaine, I can’t do this. I c-can’t,” Kurt stutters out, shaking his head back and forth, air catching in his throat and making it hard to speak properly, hard to breathe. “I need t-time to figure this all o-out.” 

Blaine realizes pretty quickly that his presence isn’t helping anything. He nods and Kurt can’t help but be struck again by how understanding Blaine is, even if it means it will end up hurting him.

“Blaine, I think you should go.” 

Blaine starts at the sudden sound of Santana’s voice at the doorway.

He shows himself out, mind buzzing with the days events and worry for Kurt.

“Now,” Santana says, as she carefully sits down beside Kurt and hands him a brand new container of ice cream – the one that she keeps at the back of her freezer for emergencies only, “tell Auntie Tana everything.”

***

 

As much as Santana’s listening ear and ice cream had helped Kurt that night, he still doesn’t feel any closer to knowing what he wants, so he does what any adult with a college education and his own apartment would do; he calls his dad.

It’d been far too long since he’d called home anyway, so much so that when his dad answers the phone on the second ring with a gruff ‘hello?’ it brings tears to his eyes.

“Hi, Dad,” he murmurs. He’s glad Santana went out to the bar tonight, it means he doesn’t have to worry about her spotting him as he curls his knees up to chest and presses the phone a little closer to his ear, as if it’ll make him closer to his dad somehow. 

“Kurt? Well hey there, Bud!” Burt sounds overjoyed, “You haven’t called in awhile, we miss you out here! How’s the big city treatin’ ya?” he asks.

“I miss you too, Dad.” Kurt’s voice wavers for a moment, “Listen…I messed up, Dad.”

And just like that, Burt Hummel’s sitting down in his favorite chair and telling Kurt to start at the beginning in the same calm voice that makes Kurt’s world feel a little less unstable.

Kurt tells him everything; from the professional past he and Blaine have together, to that first night at the bar when he started to really notice Blaine, all the way through the fight with Cayden, right up to staying at Santana’s.

“I-I don’t know what to do, Dad,” Kurt says, breath hitching. “I t-think I might be in love with him.”

“This Blaine kid,” Burt starts, “does he make you happy?”

Tears collect at the corner of Kurt’s eyes as he thinks about the way Blaine’s always there for him and how well they go together, how sometimes his heart skips a beat when he sees him smile.

“Y-yeah, Dad.” Guilt squeezes Kurt’s throat tight and makes him choke a little around a sob because it’s not fair. “He makes me really happy.”

“And Cayden?” his father asks.

“I still love him,” Kurt says automatically; a reflex.

Burt hears the lie.

“Do you love him or are you in love with him?” he asks.

That trips Kurt up and just as he opens his mouth to say of course he’s in love with Cayden, the words get stuck in his throat.

“Oh god,” Kurt mumbles, eyes widening as it slams home.

Burt nods even though Kurt can’t see him.

“I think,” Burt says slowly, “you know what you need to do and Kurt, just because you change your mind to find happiness, it doesn’t mean you’re a bad person. When I lost your mother, I didn’t think I’d ever be happy again…but then Carole came along.” He pauses to smile, thinking about his lovely wife.  
“Carole doesn’t replace your mother, but she makes me happier than I’ve been in a long time. I guess what I’m trying to say is you don’t need to feel guilty for falling in love with someone else, Kurt.”

The tears that had been threatening to fall finally start to run down Kurt’s cheeks.

“T-thanks, Dad,” he gets out.

“You gonna be okay by the time we all get down there to see your show?” Burt asks.

“You’re coming to the show?” Kurt asks in surprise as he wipes his tears away; usually Kurt’s family couldn’t afford to make it out to his shows, and it’d been almost a year since they’d seen Kurt perform live. Kurt always sent them tickets though, if anything just so Carole could put them into the growing scrapbook she’d made of Kurt’s blossoming career.

“Of course we are!” Burt sounds offended as he responds. “We wouldn’t miss it for the world! Carole’s been dying to see you, she keeps complaining about not having anyone to talk to about clothes with anymore.”

A laugh bursts through Kurt’s lips, surprising him with the sudden bout of homesickness it brings with it. He misses his family so much. When he went and stayed with them after Finn’s injury it hadn’t been light-hearted enough to allow Kurt to feel the satisfaction of coming home.

“I can’t wait to see you guys,” he says, rubbing a hand over his cheek and feeling his mouth stretch into a genuine smile for the first time in a week.

“We’ll be there; front row too. Now, I think you’ve got some stuff to figure out,” Burt says. “Call if you need anything, Bud.”

“I will. I love you, Dad,” Kurt says quietly, a smile still tugging as his lips.

“Love you too, Kiddo,” Burt says gently.

Kurt hangs up first since he knows his dad isn’t going to until he does. He curls up against the couch pillows and lets out a deep breath, feeling some of the weight slip off his shoulders.

Suddenly, everything is so much clearer to him. He knows what he wants and he knows what he needs to do.

***

 

He’d told Cayden to meet him in Central Park. He didn’t want to be at the apartment when he did this; for some reason, he knew it wouldn’t have felt right just sitting on a couch or at the dinning table. 

Kurt held Cayden’s cappuccino in his right hand, his own nonfat mocha in the left as he waited for Cayden to meet him. Kurt sees him when he enters the edge of the park, walking towards him. He looks over Cayden’s tousled hair and the reading glasses he’s still wearing even though his nose isn’t buried in law books at the moment, it makes his heart constrict, some of the guilt creeping back up. He takes a deep calming breath before Cayden finally stops a couple feet in front of him.

“Hi,” Kurt says, before remembering the drink in his hand and holding it out. He knows it’s Cayden’s favorite.

“Thanks.”

Kurt nods and slips both his hands around his own drink.

“I thought we could walk while we talked,” Kurt offers, starting to lead Cayden onto a path. 

They walk in silence for a while, occasionally sipping at their drinks. It’s only when they’ve reached a more secluded spot that Cayden stops walking and says Kurt’s name softly.

“You’re choosing him, aren’t you?” he asks.

Kurt stops too and turns to face Cayden. “I still love you,” Kurt starts, having to focus his gaze on Cayden’s lapel because as much as he wants to look him in the eye and give him the honest truth, it’s a lot harder then Kurt had expected.

“But you’re not in love with me,” Cayden finishes slowly with a small nod. He looks down at his shoes and kicks a rock into the grass.

His words make Kurt’s head snap up, eyes searching over what he can see of the mans face in front of him.

Cayden looks up slowly after a moment and meets Kurt’s gaze and he doesn’t look heartbroken, Kurt decides. He just looks… weary.

“You expected me to say that, didn’t you?” Kurt asks softly.

“I know we haven’t spent that much time together these past couple months with our crazy schedules and everything, but the glimpses I’ve seen of you lately – I’ve never seen you this happy,” Cayden says softly, “And I knew I wasn’t the one making you like that.”

Kurt bites his lower lip, the guilt tugging at his gut. “I never meant for any of this to happen.”

Cayden nods, “I know.” He looks at his shoes again for a moment. 

Suddenly, Kurt thinks he knows what he needs to say. “I don’t want you to think that any of this is your fault. You’re a wonderful guy, Cayden – really, you are! Any guy would be more than lucky to have you,” Kurt says, attempting to show his sincerity, “it’s just that…I’m not that guy.”

Kurt steps closer and lifts his hand up to cup Cayden’s cheek gently. He doesn’t waver as he leans in and kisses Cayden’s lips softly. “I love you,” Kurt whispers, as he pulls away, “But someone out there can love you more and better than me.”

Cayden’s eyes are watering and before Kurt loses his resolve, he reaches down into his jacket pocket, pulls out the ring and holds it up.

Cayden nods and holds out his free hand for the ring, accepting it.

“I’m always going to be here for you,” Kurt says, not sure what else to do or say.

“Blaine’s a lucky guy,” Cayden finally says, sniffling a little and pulling himself together.

Kurt smiles softly, but confidently. “Not as lucky as the guy who’s going to win your heart.”

Cayden nods again and Kurt’s a little surprised when he moves in for a hug. Kurt hugs back though, careful not to spill coffee anywhere.

“Bye, Kurt,” he says as he pulls away, looking a little watery still.

“Bye, Cayden,” Kurt responds, squeezing Cayden’s hand that he’s still holding before letting go and walking away.

Kurt doesn’t feel happy as he makes his way out of the park, but the weight on his shoulders is much lighter. Relief courses through his veins and makes him feel like he can breathe again. He might not be happy in that moment, but he knows he will be eventually and he has faith that Cayden will move on to bigger and better things. He’s beginning to believe that everything really will be okay.

***

 

“Hey, Greg?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s your opinion on bowties?” Blaine asks tentatively.

Greg raises an eyebrow and glances at Blaine from where he’s working in front of the soundboard.

“This doesn’t have something to do with Kurt does it?” Greg asks. He sets his work aside and turns his focus to Blaine.

“Maybe,” Blaine says sheepishly.

He rushes to get out an explanation. “It’s just that tomorrow’s opening night and I know he said he needed time, but it is opening and I want to look nice and congratulate him, but I don’t want to overdo it and make it look like I’m trying to push him into something. So I wanted to know if I should wear a bowtie because well I think bowties are classy, but maybe Kurt doesn’t-“

“-Kid, you think too much,” Greg interrupts with a chuckle.

“I know,” Blaine says miserably.

“Oh, hey now, it’s not always a bad thing.” Greg says. “Look, wear what makes you comfortable. If you want to wear a bowtie, wear one! Kurt will like you no matter what you wear,” he reassures.

“Thanks, Greg.” 

Greg nods and leaves Blaine to think about his bowtie choices now that he’s decided on wearing one.

The next night, Greg’s wearing his usual dark clothes and is setting up everything, testing and re-testing mics to make sure everything is working properly when Blaine almost walks right into him because his head is bent down looking at his hands.

“Whoa there! Watch where you’re going, Blaine,” Greg says.

“Sorry, I was distracted,” Blaine explains, holding up the two bowties he’s got in his hands.

“I don’t know which one to pick,” Blaine says, worrying his lower lip between his teeth.

Greg takes a moment to look at the bowties in Blaine’s hands critically.

“Go with that one,” Greg says as he points to the bowtie patterned with tiny thespian faces for tragedy and comedy on it.

“Thanks,” Blaine says, working to fix up the bowtie around his neck even though his fingers are shaking.

Greg helps straighten and center it.

“You look great, kid.”

“I hope he likes it.” Blaine says, voice high with nerves.

“He’ll love it.”

***

 

Opening night is a hit.

The audience’s applause as the cast takes their bows is thunderous and with his family standing in the front row hooting and hollering, Kurt doesn’t think he’s ever smiled so hard.

The whole cast is high on adrenaline as they make their way back to their dressing rooms to get ready to meet their respective family members and significant others.  
Kurt’s cheeks are flushed with excitement as he stops in front of his mirror in the dressing room.

There’s a bouquet of roses, exactly the same kind as that first day back at rehearsal, sitting on the small table.

Kurt grins and leans in to look at the card sticking out of the lovely vase. His smile softens, heart fluttering as he reads the quote printed on the card.

‘Times Square can’t shine as bright as you’ -Blaine

“You know he’s waiting in the lobby with another dozen roses, right?” Santana asks, nudging Kurt in the side.

“Really?” Kurt looks up with a grin.

“He’s even got a bowtie on.”

Kurt sets the card down and works quickly to get out of his costume, eager to see Blaine and his family.

“God, you’re so in love, its sickening,” Santana groans, no bite behind her words. “I’m gonna get a cavity from all the sweetness.”

Kurt doesn’t even try to deny it as he finishes up taking off the stage make-up and hurries to grab his bag. 

“You’re the best,” he says with a quick kiss to her cheek before dashing out of the room.

“Of course I am,” Santana says to herself with a smile, getting ready to head out to the bar, where everyone’s going to meet at after the show.

Sure enough, when Kurt enters the lobby his eyes land on Blaine, standing with a dozen roses clasped in his hands and wearing the most adorable bowtie Kurt’s ever seen. It takes Kurt a few seconds to realize that Blaine’s standing with his family.

“Dad!” He says happily as he approaches them, throwing his arms around his father’s neck.

“Hey there, Kiddo! Great show!” he congratulates as he pats Kurt’s back. Kurt’s missed his father’s hugs.

“Carole!” He says excitedly as he goes around hugging her and Finn too, who’s looking much better since the surgeries.

And then that only leaves Blaine.

“Hi,” Kurt says softly, turning his attention to the adorable man in front of him.

“Your dad kind of figured out who I was, I may or may not have been rehearsing what was I was going to say to you when I handed you these,” Blaine says as he holds out the roses. Unlike the roses from his dressing room, all these roses are a deep, ruby red.

“Congratulations, Kurt. You were wonderful,” Blaine says, a blush coloring his cheeks making them almost the same color as the roses.

“I couldn’t have done it without you making me sound so wonderful,” Kurt says sweetly. “I love your bowtie, by the way,” he compliments, watching happily as Blaine preens at the praise.

“Kurt, are we heading out with everyone else?” Burt asks as he moves to his side. Kurt glances over his shoulder to see that everyone is slowly trickling out of the theater and onto the streets to make their way to the bar.

“Yeah, I hope you don’t mind if Blaine comes with us?” Kurt asks, looking back at Blaine, wondering if that’s what he wanted.

“Of course, the more the merrier!” Carole says happily, looping her arm through her husbands.

“I’d love to join you.”

“Well then it’s settled, lets go!” Burt says decidedly, leading the way out.

The bar is warm and lively when they arrive and find a table to sit at. Kurt swears his father could be a saint when after a few minutes he gets Carole and Finn to go with him to get food and drinks, leaving him and Blaine behind on their own.

“You look really happy,” Blaine comments with a smile, taking off his jacket and draping it over the back of his chair.

“I am,” Kurt said with a grin, taking a moment to soak up the feeling.

“You know…” Kurt says slowly. “Cayden and I broke things off. He understood that I didn’t feel the same way for him anymore.”

Blaine’s eyes are wide as he looks back at Kurt. “Oh Kurt, I… I don’t know what to say.”

Kurt pauses for a moment, smiling at Blaine before continuing.

“He also understood,” Kurt says, “that I have feelings for someone else.” Mustering up as much confidence as he can, Kurt reaches over and very deliberately sets his hand over Blaine’s where it’s resting on the table.

Blaine’s eyes widen even more, mouth dropping open a little. “Oh. Oh.”

Kurt squeezes Blaine’s hand.

“I just needed you to know that,” he murmurs.

“I like you,” Blaine says quickly.

“I like you too,” Kurt smiles.

Blaine blinks before he face breaks out in a wide grin and he squeezes Kurt’s hand back.

Kurt doesn’t move his hand away when his family comes back. He doesn’t even blink an eye when Santana makes herself a dominant fixture at their table and uses every innuendo in the book just to see Blaine turn redder than a tomato.

He knows he’s not going to jump into things with Blaine. There’s a rather large hole in his heart where Cayden used to be, but he knows he’s not broken. He fell out of love with Cayden a long time ago, it’d just taken him a while to realize it, and he knows he has a future with the man sitting beside him.

They’ll take things slow and treasure every moment.

Maybe one day Blaine will finally sing him one of those songs that he’s written in his little black book.

Every silly romantic thing that Blaine wants to do, Kurt wants to do too. 

He wants everything with Blaine.

***

Epilogue

2 years later

 

“Alright, that’s it everybody, great job today!” The director calls out to the theater, “I’ll see you all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed tomorrow morning! Six o’clock!”

The whole cast groans in unison, muttering a few choice words to themselves, all except for one Blaine Anderson.

Blaine makes his way over to where Kurt is sitting at the edge of the stage, a bounce in his step.

“Isn’t this exciting?” Blaine says happily, oblivious to the way Kurt’s eyes rove over Blaine’s bared shoulders and arms and way his tank top clings to his stomach.

“Blaine, honey, I think you’re a little too excited about this,” Kurt says, “Aren’t you tired?”

“Well yeah, but isn’t that great? That means rehearsal went well!” he says excitedly.

“It’s a dance day, Blaine. Everyone hates dance days,” Kurt says. “Even me.” Slowly the theater begins to empty of dancers and actors as they make their way home, most of them favoring sore legs or dead arms.

Blaine’s excitement dims a little, “Really? I thought it was fun.”

“Oh sweetie,” Kurt says, half laughing, slowly standing up, wincing at the way his muscles ache and twinge as he moves, “I know you do, but this is also very new to you; you’ll get over the excitement soon.”

“Well this is my first role in a real show and I have a solo and everything! I don’t want this feeling to go away,” he says.

A moment passes.

“I’m so proud of you,” Kurt murmurs, amazed again at just how lucky he is to have ended up with a man like Blaine.

“Thank you,” Blaine says with a blush, moving closer to his boyfriend. “You’re pretty incredible yourself.”

“And that deserves a kiss,” Kurt says before leaning down to brush his lips to Blaine’s.

“Mmm, remind me to compliment you more often,” Blaine mumbles, making Kurt nip at his bottom lip in retaliation.

“Watch it, newbie,” Kurt warns with a soft smile before he pulls away. 

Kurt makes his way over to where their bags are kept and leans down to pick his own up. 

“So, what should we have for dinner tonight? I was thinking we could try this place around the corner, Santana says they have great appetizers…” 

Kurt trails off as he turns back around, bag slung over his shoulder, only to find Blaine center stage – lowered on one knee. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Kurt realizes the theater is empty, but for all he notices in that moment an entire audience could have been filling every seat of that theater and he wouldn’t have cared.

“Blaine,” Kurt breathes, taking a few steps toward him, heart dropping into his stomach.

“Kurt,” Blaine starts slowly, earnest, bright eyes never leaving Kurt’s, “You are the love of my life. You stole my heart during the very first show we worked on together and I’ve never been the same since,” Blaine continues, voice wavering slightly with barely contained emotion, “and I’ve never told you this, but all those times you joked about us magically ending up on the same shows? That was actually my doing; I begged people in higher places so that I would be hired for the same shows you were being cast in,” Blaine says, blushing somewhat.

Kurt’s hand had moved up to cover his mouth and he can feel his lips stretching into a wide smile as he listens to Blaine’s speech.

“I took every chance I could get to be around you, even when I found out that you were engaged to someone else. I told myself that I had to be a part of your life somehow; maybe not in the way I wanted, but as long as I got to see you every day, and got to make you smile every day, I would’ve been happy. And then,” Blaine’s eyes are watering, “…and then you loved me back.”

Kurt moves his hand to cover his heart; his own eyes beginning to fill with unshed tears.

“You have made me so much happier than I ever thought I could be, and I love you so much. So, Kurt Hummel-” Blaine says, pausing as he reaches into the pocket of his work out sweats and pulls out a tiny black box. He holds it up and slowly opens it so Kurt can see the glint of gold metal on the inside.

“-will you marry me?”

The question hangs in the air for only a second, Blaine’s hopeful gaze settled on Kurt.

And then Kurt is launching himself at Blaine, his bag somehow falling down onto the floor, and good thing Blaine has good enough reflexes to catch Kurt as they topple down onto the stage floor.

“Yesyesyesyesyesyes!” Kurt says over and over again as he peppers kisses over Blaine’s face, tears streaming down his cheeks, mumbling out ‘I love you’ every chance he gets when he isn’t kissing his fiancé. 

Blaine’s laughing and grinning happily, trying his best to kiss Kurt back.

Eventually Blaine manages to get them both sitting up semi-properly so he can slip the ring on Kurt’s finger, kissing it once before admiring it.

“I can’t believe you asked me right now –I’m all sweaty, it’s gross Blaine Anderson,” Kurt manages to choke out around another tearful laugh as he looks at the ring too. He’s awestruck by the beauty of the ring and he thinks he’s falling in love with the way it looks around his finger when Blaine squeezes Kurt’s hand gently.

“You still said yes,” Blaine says joyfully, grin wide and open.

“I’ll always say yes.” Kurt says, leaning forward to press a kiss to Blaine’s lips, smiling with the knowledge that he gets to spend the rest of his life with the man he loves more than anything in the world.

fin

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for the formatting errors, something with my transfer went wrong. I will work to fix this as soon as I can, but for now I'm going to go sleep lol UPDATE: fixed the formatting! :D now you can read it without getting a headache :) Theres nice spaces and things lol


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